


so we sat back and waited (the python approach)

by Muse92



Category: Mr. Robot (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Sad with a Happy Ending, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-17
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2019-02-28 04:16:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13263501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Muse92/pseuds/Muse92
Summary: The python approach; that's how they've been dealing with the fallout of 5/9. Dominique finds herself standing in front of the whiteboard carefully arranged with their suspects' photos and relevant information, again. This investigation has taken over every waking moment of her life.It's been just over a month of standing back, of watching them, and Dom is starting to think they might be able to flip some of the inner circle. They might be able to get the man in the middle with just a bit more patience.But when that proves a false hope it will take a Dark Army assassination in a diner to kick things into gear and bring Darlene Alderson into her orbit. It's not until much later that Dom realises that the python approach and this case has slipped into her personal life, into her love life.----Or - the next season is too far away so why not fill in all the missing scenes between the China incident and the season 3 finale that bring Dom and Darlene together and then who knows what else.





	so we sat back and waited (the python approach)

**Author's Note:**

> So I've just finished re-watching season 2 and 3 and its not enough of the show to get me through. I've done a rough plan and it'll probably be around 20-25 chapters but i'll update that the closer to the end I get.  
> This chapter starts in that cross section between season 2 episodes 6&7

_Bullets fly around her, blood pooling at her feet from the bodies dropping to the ground. There isn't time and she doesn’t have a weapon. She’s outnumbered and knows it. Her heart beats so loudly she can barely make out the guns firing or the screams of her colleagues, another falling just in front of her, gun loose in his grip._

_Everything is moving too fast and yet it feels like an eternity to stretch out her arm, to grab his piece. Adrenaline pumping through her veins, breathing hard, she lets her training take over her actions. Stepping out from what shelter she has she fires two rounds in quick succession; both finding their target with ease and quickly ducks back down. She hears a body hit the ground, knowing it’s one she just fired at. She focuses her attention on the sound of the next gun, trying to determine exactly where it’s coming from._

_Another deep breath and she moves; she stands, gun at the ready, but she was wrong._

_Bullets pierce her skin, too many to count. Her breath stolen from her body by their impact as she falls backwards; the pain unbearable. She hits the ground hard, mouth opening and closing uselessly as her body fights to take in air._

_At last the spasm in her chest stops, her lungs filling but she can’t do much more than moan as she watches him approach. Face hidden he stands above her, gun pointed squarely between her eyes and fires._

The scream that leaves her seems almost otherworldly, her entire body arching off the bed in shock, sheets clinging to her sweat drenched body. Dominique’s eyes fly around the room in search of danger. She’s in her apartment. Alone. She strains her ears, trying in vain to hear the sounds of her non-existent attacker.

Nothing. She is safe.

Dom tries to calm herself, counting silently in her head, matching her breathing to the count. It takes a few minutes but her heart slowly returns to normal and the fear that had gripped her just moments before subdued to unease.

It’s been like this since she returned from China. Dom’s always had difficulty sleeping, her body learned long ago how to function on barely any sleep, but now what sleep she does get is plagued with horror. The third night in a row this particular version of the events have dominated her subconscious. She kicks the sheets away from her body, too hot and sweaty to find any comfort in them.

Early morning sun spills into her bedroom through the half closed curtains and Dom finds relief in the fact that she doesn’t have hours until morning. By her calculations, Alexa should be chiming her alarm in any moment. Dom raises her head, staring intently at Alexa on the table across the room as if pleading with her to turn on faster. She needs her day to officially start. She needs to get moving, get back to work. She needs to make this right; their deaths cannot be for nothing.

As if aware of Dom’s eyes Alexa’s light ring flashes blue and a calming melody fills the apartment.

“Alexa stop.” Dom calls out across the room, the melody more grating than calming this morning. Sighing she lets her head fall back into the pillows as she gathers the strength to roll herself out of bed.

“Alexa, shuffle songs from _Morning Playlist.”_ She says making her way towards the kitchen.

“Shuffling song from _Morning Playlist.”_ Comes Alexa’s response before the apartment fills with Johnny Cash.

Dom switches on the coffee machine and moves to the bathroom and turns on her curling iron as well; both quite outdated models. She knows she could update them; or at least just the coffee machine. Get a smart machine and have Alexa wake her up with fresh coffee every morning. That had been the plan in the beginning, or at least that’s what she tells herself. If she’s being honest, really honest, she only got Alexa to give herself something to talk to on her nights alone. Tired of rattling around her apartment in silence, yearning for some kind of connection she had reached out to technology. Although she tries not to think about it, not dwell on the loneliness that has become her home life.

The beeping of the coffee machine pulls her from her thoughts, the smell of coffee drawing her to the kitchen. Dom barely lets her mug cool before downing half her coffee in one, the scalding sensation down her throat jumps her body into complete wakefulness. She shakes the fog from her mind, chasing way the last remnants of her sleep, and fills her mug before returning to the bathroom.

Dom’s morning routine feels like a montage from a movie, she feels removed from it somehow. A never ending cycle. Coffee to mouth, curling iron to hair, more coffee, makeup, and even more coffee. She works through the twinge in her ribs as she lifts her arms above her head, ignoring the physical reminders of China that haunt her body still. She moves on autopilot, not really thinking about the actions.

Every morning is the same, the consistency relaxes her, allowing her mind time to focus back on work; there really isn't anywhere else for it to go. They've been at it for weeks, this slow game of watching and waiting. This is the biggest investigation in FBI history and Dom feels at the forefront of it. Her social life may be non-existent but that only gives her more time to focus on her job, gives more opportunities to prove herself an exceptional agent.  

She pulls her hair into a loose ponytail and finds herself staring at her reflection. The darker than normal circles under her eyes covered, the coffee giving life to her tired body. She feels more alive now.

"Alexa stop."

Her apartment falls into silence.

Giving herself another once over in the mirror, knowing that this is as good as it's going to get today, she moves to her safe. Strapping her gun and badge to her hip brings a sense of completeness, a sense of purposefulness. She feels more whole in a way she can’t readily explain.

"Alexa, give me the daily 5/9."

Alexa's voice fills the room, reporting on the best and worst of what the 5/9 attack has in store for the world today. It's the last thing she hears as she closes her front door, an almost whispered goodbye to Alexa sitting on the tip of her tongue.

She's a block away from home when her phone buzzes the first time and as she reads the first a second comes through.

_Santiago still on the war path, bring coffee on your way in - Norm -_

  _Joyable. Start overcoming social anxiety._

She pauses on the sidewalk, taking a moment to breathe calmly as the second notification counts down. When it hits zero she starts moving again, more purpose to her step. Dom takes a detour down the next street, if she’s going to have to deal with Santiago like that today she deserves to treat herself. Norm and his coffee can wait.

Her favourite deli comes into view. It’s small. The kind of place she is comfortable in. She tries at normal here, whatever that is. She makes an effort with Ahmed, to get to know him and his family. A quick but deep breath in as she steps inside.

The shelves seem emptier than usual, even in these hard times, but she walks up to the counter with a greeting for Ahmed and a smile at seeing a few energy shots by the cash register.

“Jesus, at least you’ve still got a few of these left.” Dom jokes, grabbing some energy shots. “I cannot get through a day in that ECorp building without juicing, you know what I mean.”

She laughs but only gets a grunt in response.

“Hey, how soon until you re-up on... everything?”

“Oh, well that’s it for this place,” Ahmed says solemnly. “I thought I could weather this storm but that’s… I can’t.”

The smile drops from Dom’s face at his words, “I know its rough out there, but you’re a survivor Ahmed.”

He laughs. “Yeah, well not while I can’t pay the rent. This cash allowance, no one’s coming in. No customers, no inventory.”

“No more of the best damn turkey sandwich in the tri-state. Man I’m really sorry.” She feels awkward, not really sure what she should say. She bounces on her feet, nervous energy filling her body.

“Yeah, thanks.” Ahmed replies. What else is there to say?

“Well, guess I gotta take advantage while I still can, right?”  He looks confused at her words. “How ‘bout it, turkey sandwich on whole-wheat.”

It’s an attempt at light heartedness, at being funny, but she knows it doesn't really hit the right mark. She's never been good in these kinds of situations, at dealing with bad news. What is she supposed to say? What more can she do?

Dom takes her sandwich, the energy shots, and a few extra lollipops, and wishes Ahmed and his family the best. A hope that he and the deli will come back however unlikely it may be; they are no closer to undoing 5/9 today than they were when it first happened. She’s really going to miss this place.

Stepping back out onto the street Dom notes that nearly every store in sight is closed or on the verge of, it could take years before things start heading in the right direction.

It’s not until she's waking in the front door of the ECorp building that she remembers the coffee Norm had asked for, swearing under her breath as she makes an abrupt about turn heading back out onto the street.

 

* * *

 

"If I didn’t know any better I'd say you were avoiding the place." Norm laughs as Dom places his coffee on his desk.

She scoffs a laugh.

"I wonder why that could be," she replies nodding her head in the direction of Santiago's temporary office, his raised voice easily travelling through the closed door. He definitely is on the war path today.

Norm rolls his eyes, turning back to his monitor. "Nothing exciting lined up for the day, anything in particular you want to look into?" he asks, not bothering to take his eyes off the computer.

Dominique sits, logging into her computer. “Have we heard anything back on that bullet from the arcade yet?” She asks, flicking through her emails.

“Nothing yet.”

“Well, I guess we could take a trip over to the lab today,” Dom leans back in her chair arms outstretched above her head, her spine cracks at the movement. “Or we could go over even more social media from the _End of the World_ party.”

Norm actually turns to look at her, a laugh at her words.

“Dibs on the lab.” He says already on his feet, coffee in hand. “You’ve had more than your share of time away from this building today.”

“Hey!” Dom interrupts him. “I was getting _you_ a coffee.”

“Not complaining about that at all.” He smirks and takes a swig from his cup for good measure. “I’ll be sure to bring you one back after _I’m_ finished at the lab.”

She watches his retreating form as he all but speed walks off the floor shaking her head. She likes Norm, he’s a good detective and somehow has managed to get on her good side.

 

* * *

 

 

The floor is mostly empty at this time of the day, the lunch hour rush. Dom is looking over paperwork with two other agents when she spots her. Angela Moss. Her face is instantly recognizable after hours of staring at her photo on the wall back at headquarters. Angela Moss on a floor she shouldn’t be. Dom doesn’t hear another word out of the agent’s mouth, her entire being attuned to what Angela is doing.

She looks worried, nervous, like a mouse caught in a trap. She stops in her tracks immediately upon seeing Dom and the other agents in the hallway, turning on her heel and making her way to the stairs and away from the agents. Without a word of parting or apology Dom abruptly leaves the conversation and follows behind Angela, careful of not letting her know she’s being followed.

She watches Angela move back to her desk and gives her a few moments of false victory before making her way over; waits until she sees Angela typing at her computer.

“Angela Moss, is that right?” She knows that answer already but waits for an answer anyway, hands on hips and body angled just enough to see the computer monitor.

Angela looks up at her, headphones in and clearly visible from across the floor.

“Oh, you in the middle of a call?” Dom says casually, this is the only time she knows she’s hitting every mark. Talking to suspects, even when they don’t know they’re suspects, has always been easy. Making them feel comfortable with her. “I’m sorry. I hate when people do that. Go ahead I can wait for you to finish.”

It takes her a moment, putting the person on her call on hold but she soon has Angela’s full attention. She’s not happy about having to talk to Dom, that much is clear, but the amount of underlying anger in her words feels forced. The inconvenience exaggerated. 

Dom has a hunch as to what Angela was doing on the FBI floor, the screen she has open on her desktop certainly doesn’t look like the kind of thing a PR Manager should be working on.

“Whatever this is, it’s not you.” She tells Angela as if she really knew her. The hours spent pouring over Angela’s life for the investigation making her believe her own words.

She leaves Angela with a promise of a more formal interview, a move from Allsafe to ECorp enough of a reason to pull her in without being suspicious. Dom moves quickly back to her floor, to the security team. She is all but positive her hunch is right at this point, pulling a lollipop out of her pocket as she moves.  

“Pull up two hours ago.” She instructs, leaning over the back of the technicians chair already knowing exactly what they’re going to find.

The screen remains black, no data found. She was right.

“Last week, any day.” Dom tries not to let her frustration seep into her words.

Again, the screen remains black. The technician quickly checks multiple dates, the screen never changing. They’re good, they managed to get every video of the FBI floor erased in the time it took her to get downstairs. She stands back up, impressed, taking the lollipop from her mouth.

“The entire archive is corrupt.” He says.

 “Call the network team, you guys just got hacked. I’d sweep the 23rd floor and check Angela Moss’s computer. You won’t find anything I’m sure she’s erased all traces, but check anyway.”

Dom turns, heading for the door. There’s not much she can really do at this point, the hack is done.

“Where are you going?” The technician asks incredulously and she pauses in her step, turning back to him.

“4th of July tomorrow, I’m gonna find a BBQ to be lonely at.” She jokes before walking off the floor. The honesty in the jokes hits a little too close to home.

 

* * *

 

 

She pushes through her front door, arms laden with beers and fresh meat for the BBQ tomorrow. It’s late, her apartment shrouded in darkness but still Dom moves quickly to the kitchen ever grateful for the small size of her home.

“Alexa, what’s the time?” She asks, moving through her apartment to her safe and flicking light switches on her way.

“The time is 9:23PM”

Dom unhooks her gun and badge from her belt placing them in the safe and allows herself a moment to fold in on herself. The veneer of put-together FBI Agent slipping away. She strips and heads for the shower, leaving the apartment in a state of silence; Alexa patiently awaiting her next command.

The bathroom is completely filled with steam by the time Dom steps out of the shower, skin pink from the heat of the water. She uses her forearm to clear the mirror, once more faced with her reflection sans makeup and is surprised with just how tired and rundown she looks. The toll from the nightmares of the past few nights clearly evident, even the blue of her eyes seems fade to an almost grey.

“Alexa, read the headlines.” She calls out, listening to the news as she prepares for bed.

Dom doesn’t really want to sleep, even if she is able to, the worry of further nightmares playing in the back of her mind but with the long weekend looming she knows she’ll need what rest she can get. It’s a long commute to see her family for the 4th of July and she’ll need all the energy she can get to dodge the questions of her job and non-existent love life. It's not her family she's worried about, not in the slightest, it's the other people that will be there. The strangers. The endless small talk. Dom swallows a handful of Melatonin tablets before making her way to bed.

“Alexa, set alarm for 7AM.”

“Alarm set for 7AM.”

 

* * *

 

She’s been laying in the dark for what feels like hours, sleep evading her entirely. Dom’s whole body too high strung to relax, a nervous energy spilling over her in anticipation of a weekend surrounded by people. She sighs, rolling on to her back.

“This is useless,” Dom mutters to herself, kicking the sheets off her body. “Alexa, what’s the time.”

“The time is 3:12AM.”

Less than four hours until she needs to get up and sleep doesn’t look anywhere close to coming. She reaches blindly for her glasses, putting them on before reaching for her laptop.

The light from the screen blinds her momentarily after so many hours without light, she turns down the brightness before bringing up an incognito internet window. Dom doesn’t have the patience at this hour for chat so instead pulls up a porn website, easily maneuvering through the site to a video she knows well.

Pressing play she adjusts the screen to a better position to free her hands and still see the screen. The video jumps right into things, no time wasted on unnecessary storylines, just straight into the action. Two women together on a couch.

Dom snakes her hand down her stomach, allowing herself a moment tease at the soft skin at the hem of her shorts before pushing under the fabric, eyes intently focused on the screen. The flutter of anticipation low in her stomach quickly making itself know, her breathing becoming more labored with every passing second.

Dom falls into the moment with ease, starting with long and slow strokes even though she knows she doesn’t have time for them. The wetness pooling at her centre already, she focuses her attention on her clit. Tight quick circles, increasing the pressure.

Her eyes never leave the screen, her mind forcing the picture she sees there to form around her. The fingers pressing into her not her own. The hand that trails up her stomach, beneath her shirt to palm her breast not her own. She pushes it, racing herself to an end. Back arching off the bed and legs falling further open as her fingers move more furiously against herself.

She’s close, oh so very close, but she can’t quite seem to make that final leap into bliss. She can’t move fast enough, there’s not enough pressure behind her fingers. The video is going to finish before Dom does. She squeezes her eyes closed, trying to keep the images clear in her mind. Swearing under her breath the closer she gets.

Fingers slip lower, not a pause in their movements as two fingers are pushed deep and the heel of a palm moving firmly against her clit.  She ruts against the fingers as they curl them inside her trying to hit that one spot that always manages to hurtle her over the edge.

They do. Again, and again. Each one harder and faster than the last. Her toes curl, legs shaking, her breath catching in her throat as she comes.

The motions slow, elongating her pleasure but as she opens her eyes the vision she was holding falls away and her movements stop immediately.

She’s alone.

She huffs a sigh, trying to ignore the feeling of utter loneliness and desperation that falls over her. Pulling her hand free of her shorts Dom rolls onto her side and closes her laptop. Her eyes prick with tears threatening to spill.

“Alexa, what’s the time?”

“The time is 3:59AM”

She pulls a pillow to her chest, curling herself around its form.

“Goodnight, Alexa.” She whispers, closing her eyes against the coming tears.

“Goodnight, don’t let the bed bugs bite.”

**Author's Note:**

> Ive got the bulk of the next chapter started - Darlene gets introduced there and hopefully won't be far off


End file.
